70 If the strong cane support thy walking hand, Chairmen no longer shall the wall command; F.v'n sturdy carinen shall thy nod obey, And rattling coaches stop to make thee way: This shall direct thy cautious tread aright, Though not one glaring lamp enliven night. Let beaux their canes, with amber tipt, produce; Be theirs for empty show, but thine for use. In gilded chariots while they loll at ease, And lazily ensure a life's disease; While softer chairs the tawdry load convey To court, to White's, assemblies, or the play; Rosy complexion'd Health thy steps attends, And exercise thy lasting youth defends. Imprudent men Heaven's choicest gifts profane: Thus some beneath their arm support the cane; The dirty point oft checks the careless pace, And miry spots the clean cravat disgrace. Oh! may I never such misfortune meet! May no such vicious walkers crowd the street! May Providence o'ershade me with her wings, While the bold Muse experienc'd danger sings! Not that I wander from my native home, And (tempting perils) foreign cities roam. Let Paris be the theine of Gallia's Muse, Where Slavery treads the streets in wooden shoes. Nor do I rove in Belgia's frozen clime, And teach the clumsy boor to skate in rhyme; Where, if the warmer clouds in rain descend, No miry ways industrious steps offend; The rushing flood from sloping pavements pours, And blackens the canals with dirty showers. Let others Naples' smoother streets rehearse, And with proud Roman structures grace their verse, Where frequent murders wake the night with groans, 80 90 And blood in purple torrents dyes the stones. With narrow step, affects a limping air. Now gaudy pride corrupts the lavish age, And the streets flame with glaring equipage; 111 The tricking gamester insolently rides, Surpris'd in dreary fogs, or driving rain. A chocolate house in St, James's street, This knows the powder'd footman, and with care 140 The changing weather certain signs reveal. Ere Winter sheds her snow, or frosts congeal, You'll see the coals in brighter flame aspire, And sulphur tinge with blue the rising fire; Your tender shins the scorching heat decline, And at the dearth of coals the poor repine; Before her kitchen hearth, the nodding dame, In flannel mantle wrapt, enjoys the flame; Hovering, upon her feeble knees she bends, And all around the grateful warmth ascends. Nor do less certain signs the town advise Of milder weather and serener skies. The ladies, gaily dress'd, the Mall adorn With various dyes, and paint the sunny morn: The wanton fawns with frisking pleasure range, And chirping sparrows greet the welcome change; Not that their minds with greater skill are fraught', Endued by instinct, or by reason taught: The seasons operate on every breast; "Tis hence the fawns are brisk, and ladies drest. When on his box the nodding coachman snores, And dreams of fancy'd fares; when tavern doors The chairmen idly crowd; then ne'er refuse To trust thy busy steps in thinner shoes. 150 But when the swinging signs your ears offend With creaking noise, then rainy floods impend; Soon shall the kennels swell with rapid streams, And rush in muddy torrents to the Thames. 160 The bookseller, whose shop's an open square, Foresees the tempest, and with early care Of learning strips the rails; the rowing crew, To tempt a fare, clothe all their tilts in blue; On hosier's poles depending stockings ty'd, Flag with the slacken'd gale from side to side; Church-monuments foretel the changing air, Then Niobe dissolves into a tear, [sounds And sweats with sacred grief; you'll hear the Of whistling winds, ere kennels break their bounds; Ungrateful odours common-shores diffuse, And dropping vaults distil unwholesome dews, Ere the tiles rattle with the smoking shower, And spouts on heedless men their torrents pour. 171 All superstition from thy breast repel : Let credulous boys and prattling nurses tell, How, if the festival of Paul be clear, Plenty from liberal horn shall strew the year; When the dark skies dissolve in snow or rain, The labouring hind shall yoke the steer in vain; But, if the threatening winds in tempests roar, 181 Then War shall bathe her wasteful sword in gore. How, if on Swithin's feast the welkin lours, And every penthouse streams with basty showers, Twice twenty days shall clouds their fleeces drain, And wash the pavements with incessant rain. Let not such vulgar tales debase thy mind; Nor Paul nor Swithin rule the clouds and wind. If you the precepts of the Muse despise, And slight the faithful warning of the skies, Others you'll see, when all the town's afloat, Wrapt in th' embraces of a kersey coat, 190 Haud equidem credo, quia sit divinitus illis, Ingenium, aut rerum fato prudentia major. Virg. Georg. 200 Or double-bottom'd frieze; their guarded feet 210 To guard from chilly showers the walking maid. Where Lincoln wide extends her fenny soil, 230 And, when the plains with evening dews are spread, 240 250 Vulcan by chance the bloomy maiden spies, With innocence and beauty in her eyes:He saw, he lov'd; for yet he ne'er had known Sweet innocence and beauty meet in one. Ah, Mulciber! recal thy nuptial vows, Think on the graces of thy Paphian spouse; Think how her eyes dart inexhausted charms, And canst thou leave her bed for Patty's arms? The Lemnian power forsakes the realms above, His bosom glowing with terrestrial love: Far in the lane a lonely hut he found; No tenant ventur'd on th' unwholesome ground. Here smokes his forge, he bares his sinewy arm, And early strokes the sounding anvil warm: Around his shop the steely sparkles flew, As for the steed he shap'd the bending shoe. When blue-ey'd Patty near his window came, His anvil rests, his forge forgets to flame. To hear his soothing tales, she feigns delays; What woman can resist the force of praise? At first she coyly every kiss withstood, And all her cheek was flush'd with modest blood; 260 With headless nails he now surrounds her shoes, | And bear her safely through the wintery ways. No more her lungs are shook with dropping rheums, TRIVIA. BOOK II. OF WALKING THE STREETS BY DAY. 280 THUS far the Muse has trac'd, in useful layı, The proper implements for wintery ways; Has taught the walker, with judicious eyes, To read the various warnings of the skies: Now venture, Muse, from home to range the town, And for the public safety risk thy own. 10 For ease and for dispatch, the morning's best; No tides of passengers the streets molest. You'll see a draggled damsel here and there, From Billingsgate her fishy traffic bear; On doors the sallow milk-maid chalks her gains; Ah! how unlike the milk-maid of the plains! Before proud gates attending asses bray, Or arrogate with solemn pace the way; These grave physicians with their milky cheer The love-sick maid and dwindling beau repair; Here rows of drummers stand in martial file, And with their vellum thunder shake the pile, To greet the new made bride. Are sounds like these The proper prelude to a state of peace? Now Industry awakes her busy sons; Full-charg'd with news the breathless hawker runs : Shops open, coaches roll, carts shake the ground, And all the streets with passing cries resound. If cloth'd in black you tread the busy town, Or if distinguish'd by the reverend grown, Three trades avoid oft in the mingling press The barber's apron soils the sable dress; Shun the perfumer's touch with cautious eye, Nor let the baker's step advance too nigh. Ye walkers too, that youthful colours wear, Three sullying trades avoid with equal care: The little chimney-sweeper skulks along, And marks with sooty stains the heedless throng; When small-coal murmurs in the hoarser throat, From smutty dangers guard thy threaten'd coat; The dustman's cart offends thy clothes and eyes, When through the street a cloud of ashes flies; But, whether black or lighter dyes are worn, The chandler's basket, on his shoulder borne, With tallow spots thy coat; resign the way, To shun the surly butcher's greasy tray, 20 39 30 40 1 Butchers, whose hands are dy'd with blood's foul [49 And risks, to save a coach, his red-heel'd shoes; Yield not the way, defy his strutting pride, 60 If drawn by business to a street unknown, Where fam'd St. Giles's ancient limits spread, To seek amours; the vice the monarch lov'd 109 Now had the watchman walk'd his second round, With the night-wandering harlot's airs she past, When the pale Moon had nine times fill'd her. 70 The pregnant goddess (cautious of disgrace) 80 90 Ere thou hast held their hands; some heedless Will overspread thy calves with spattering dirt. 140 Oh happy unown'd youths! your limbs can bear 160 Cloacina was a goddess, whose image Tatius (a king of the Sabines) found in the common shore; and, not knowing what goddess it was, he called it Cloacina, from the place in which it was found, and paid to it divine honours. Lactant. 1. 20. Minuc. Fel. Oct. p. 232. Now dawns the morn, the sturdy lad awakes, Leaps from his stall, his tangled hair he shakes; Then leaning o'er the rails, he musing stood, 171 And view'd below the black canal of mud, Where common shores a lulling murmur keep, Whose torrents rush from Holborn's fatal steep: Pensive through idleness, tears flow'd apace, Which eas'd his loaded heart, and wash'd his face! At length he sighing cry'd, "That boy was blest, Whose infant lips have drain'd a mother's breast; But happier far are those (if such be known) Whom both a father and a mother own: But I, alas! hard Fortune's utmost scorn, Who ne'er knew parent, was an orphan born! Some boys are rich by birth beyond all wants, Belov'd by uncles, and kind good old aunts; When time comes round, a Christmas-box they bear, 180 And one day makes them rich for all the year. son: Go thrive. At some frequented corner stand; 201 This brush I give thee, grasp it in thy hand, Like the sweet ballad, this amusing lay. While he attends, new dangers round him throng; The busy city asks instructive song. 220 Where, elevated o'er the gaping crowd, Clasp'd in the board the perjur'd head is bow'd, Betimes retreat; here, thick as hailstones pour, Turnips and half-hatch'd eggs (a mingled shower) Among the rabble ain: some random throw May with the trickling yolk thy cheek o'erflow. Though expedition bids, yet never stray Where no rang'd posts defend the rugged way. Here laden carts with thundering waggons meet, Wheels clash with wheels, and bar the narrow street; The lashing whip resounds, the horses strain, And blood in anguish bursts the swelling vein. O barbarous men! your cruel breasts assuage; Why vent ye on the generous steed your age. 230 240 Does not his service earn your daily bread? 260 O bear me to the paths of fair Pall-mall! Safe are thy pavements, grateful is thy smell! At distance rolls along the gilded coach, Nor sturdy carmen on thy walks encroach; No lets would bar thy ways were chairs deny'd, The soft supports of laziness and pride: Shops breathe perfumes, through sashes ribbons The mutual arms of ladies and the beau. [glow, Yet still ev'n here, when rains the passage hide, Oft the loose stone spirts up a muddy tide Beneath thy careless foot; and from on high, Where masons mount the ladder, fragments fly, Mortar and crumbled dime in showers descend, And o'er thy head destructive tiles impend. 270 [stray, But sometimes let me leave the noisy roads, And silent wander in the close abodes, Where wheels ne'er shake the ground; there pensive In studious thought, the long uncrowded way. Here I remark each walker's different face, And in their look their various business trace. The broker here his spacious beaver wears, Upon his brow sit jealousies and cares; Bent on some mortgage (to avoid reproach) He seeks by-streets, and saves th' expensive coach Soft, at low doers, old letchers tap their cane, For fair recluse, who travels Drury-lane; Here roams uncomb'd the lavish rake, to shun His Fleet-street draper's everlasting dun. 279 Careful observers, studious of the town, Shun the misfortunes that disgrace the clown; Untempted, they contemn the juggler's feats, Pass by the Meuse, nor try the thimble's cheats, When drays bound high, they never cross behind, Where bubbling yest is blown by gusts of wind: 290 And when up Ludgate-hill huge carts move slow, Far from the straining steeds securely go, Whose dashing hoofs behind them fling the mire, And mark with muddy blots the gazing 'squire. The Parthian thus his javelin backward throws, And as he flies infests pursuing foes. The thoughtless wits shall frequent forfeits pay, Who 'gainst the sentry's box discharge their tea. Do thon some court or secret corner seek, Nor flush with shame the passing virgin's cheek. 1 3 Thames-street. Cheshire, anciently so called. A cheat commonly practised in the streets with three thimbles and a little ball. Yet let me not descend to trivial song, Nor vulgar circumstance my verse prolong. Why should I teach the maid, when torrents pour, Her head to shelter from the sudden shower? Nature will best her ready hand inform, With her spread petticoat to fence the storm. Does not each walker know the warning sign, When wisps of straw depend upon the twine Cross the close street, that then the paver's art Renews the ways, deny'd to coach and cart? Who knows not that the coachman lashing by Oft with his flourish cuts the heedless eye; And when he takes his stand, to wait a fare, His horses foreheads shun the Winter's air? Nor will I roam where Summer's sultry rays, Farch the dry ground, and spread with dust the ways; 310 With whirling gusts the rapid atoms rise, Winter my theme confines; whose nitry wind Deluded maids, the dangerous flame of love? 340 Where Covent-garden's famous temple stands, That boasts the work of Jones' immortal hands; Columns with plain magnificence appear, And graceful porches lead along the square: Here oft my course I bend; when, lo! from far I spy the furies of the foot-ball war : 350 The 'prentice quits his shop, to join the crew, Soft as the breath of distant flutes, at hours 360 O, roving Muse! recal that wondrous year, 380 Doll every day had walk'd these treacherous roads ; Her neck grew warpt beneath autumnal loads So, when the Thracian furies Orpheus tore, 388 But now the western gale the flood anbinds, And blackening clouds move on with warmer winds; The wooden town its frail foundation leaves, 401 And Thames' full urn rolls down his plenteous waves; From every pent-house streams the fleeting snow, 410 When fishy stalls with double store are laid; The golden-belly'd carp, the broad-finn'd maid, Red speckled trouts, the salmon's silver jowl, The jointed lobster; and unscaly soal, And luscious 'scallops to allure the tastes Of rigid zealots to delicious fasts; Wednesdays and Fridays you'll observe from hence, Days when our sires were doom'd to abstinence. 420 When dirty waters from balconies drop, And dext'rous damsels twirl the sprinkling mop, And cleanse the spatter'd sash, and scrub the stairs; Know Saturday's conclusive morn appears. Successive cries the seasons' change declare, And mark the monthly progress of the year. Hark! how the streets with treble voices ring, To sell the bounteous product of the Spring! Sweet-smelling flowers, and elder's early bud, With nettle's tender shoots, to cleanse the blood; And, when June's thunder cools the sultry skies, 431 E'en Sundays are profan'd by mackrel cries. Walnuts the fruiterer's hand in Autumn stain, Blue plumbs and juicy pears augment his gain; |